Her husband, Thomas, came in behind, big, soft handshake, tweed jacket and a mumbled morning from under a blond thatch. Mrs Hayle-Vanessa-had a sharp black bob with large triangular earrings swinging below, an aerodynamic face and a body all corners. Avoiding the mirror he opened the door and showed them in. Only there wasn’t much chance of that at home it was the wrong time of her cycle for that. He thought of self-medicating, but it would only make things worse in the end. Washing his face in ice-cold water woke him a little, but not nearly enough.

His eyes fell on the brochures spread on the coffee table. Not long after he’d suppressed personal reservations and agreed to stay on. It wasn’t long after the Health Service was privatised and the GP practice was taken over by Choice Inc. He hadn’t seen a patient since… he dredged through his memory trying to recall the face of the last person to sit across from him with something other than pregnancy. Patients were people with an illness, something he could diagnose, prescribe and treat. He’d long stopped thinking of them as patients. His exhaustion was much deeper than mere stretches could reach.Ĭustomer. Ignoring the flashing red light advertising the next customer, he ran through a quick series of stretches designed to get the blood flowing, but knew it was pointless. Joseph removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

Wow, dredged leather